


Moment of Truth

by Resoan



Series: Drabbles, Requests, and Memes [28]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas never expected to come to care for the Herald, and only does he realize the extent of his feelings for her when she's nearly taken from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moment of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on tumblr, this is based on the prompt, "Enthralled."

Solas could have anticipated a great many things when first approaching the Conclave, and the Inquisition after the temple’s destruction; finding himself drawn to the Herald, however, was not among them. At first, her questions had been idle: a brief, obvious attempt at some sort of shallow friendship. He’d humored her, even knowing he must take care with his replies, though that became less of a concern as time passed.

She continued to come to him, however: after brief treks into the Hinterlands where refugees were fleeing demons or rogue templars or out-of-control mages. Her questions probed deeper, threatened to pierce the polite facade Solas previously thought would suffice for such idle conversation.  _Velahari_ , he learned, was her name: a curious twist of several words from elvhen, though he doubted she knew of them - the Dalish knew little enough of his people as it was, even if she appeared different than those he’d earlier encountered.

 _So tell me about you, Solas_. He’d been so very caught off-guard that his reply undoubtedly earned him suspicion, though the twist of her lips into a smile set his mind at ease - though out of more than relief that she had not discovered clues as to his identity. Guilt crept into the shadows of his thoughts at how very little he truly told her, though she never pressed further, and for her thoughtfulness, he was grateful. All he could offer beyond vague hints was either a lie or evasion, and she was quick to detect both.

It developed slowly, this expectation that she would find him after their day of journeying, and discuss spirits, or the Fade, or even the elves when they were able to find common ground. Her smiles came more readily, more easily, and Solas surprised himself to find a compliment - a  _flirtatious banter_  - pass from his lips; what surprised him even more, however, was the simple ease with which she replied, and the slightly-crooked grin she wore even as she battled away a flush of red that came unbidden to her cheeks.

At night, when Solas was left to his own devices, he would find her spirit lingering and traversing within the Fade; the first few times he found her, it had been accidental - like moth beckoned to flame, though he never allowed himself close enough to burn. Hers was a bright spirit, a beacon that called to him not unlike a siren’s song, though she had not yet recognized him. Perhaps she did not require a guardian to watch over her in slumber, yet Solas took the role upon himself while her mind was vulnerable - not that he thought her incapable of defending herself. Was it merely her presence that seemed to give his continually-plagued mind some peace?

Such peace of mind was effectively stripped from him in Redcliffe: when she was thrust into a portal and into a dark, grim future. He was grateful he had no memories of said future, of his ultimate failure in more than just his own objectives. Still, he doubted he would forget when she and Dorian were drawn into the portal; his heart had seemingly been in his throat, beating so quickly and so loudly he’d scarcely heard anything at all - at least until she reappeared, rather nonplussed with the magister who’d sent her away.

Even knowing she was easily able to defend herself did not lessen the worry he felt, nor the instinct to shield her in his arms. That thought brought with it a multitude of others, but Solas forced himself to focus on the task at hand: sealing the Breach, now that mages had been recruited. 

When the red templar army appeared with a blighted dragon and ancient magister in tow, however, Solas  _knew_. Concern tore at his heart as he and the rest ran for the shelter of the Chantry, though it paled in comparison to her insistence that he and the others flee once the trebuchet had been properly aligned.  _I’m not leaving, not again._

 _“Solas, go! ”_  Her green eyes had flashed at him, her tone urgent, and only the pull of hands on his shoulders forced him to turn and follow. The waiting that followed was pure agony.

Was it even possible she yet lived? He searched with the others until every inch of him was numb from the cold and the wind, and only Cassandra and her stern commands convinced him he was better off resting for when she returned -  _when_ , and not  _if_. Solas silently wondered if Cassandra said such a thing to better reassure herself, or if she truly believed in the Herald’s survival. Either way, he hoped she was right: could not bear the thought if she were not.


End file.
